


The New Game

by LonelyGodsMuse



Series: The Game Is On [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Always Female Stiles Stilinski, F/M, Female Stiles Stilinski, POV Derek Hale, Pre-Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 01:58:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7462200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyGodsMuse/pseuds/LonelyGodsMuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of "The Fallen Pieces".  The aftermath of the Hale Fire and Stiles' death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The New Game

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! This is the highly requested sequel to my first work. I may add a third part to this newly created series but that will happen whenever inspiration strikes. I hope this finds you all well and that you enjoy:) As always, please let me know if there are errors and comments are always welcome. Happy reading!

Derek couldn’t hear anything through his muddled thoughts.  

 

He knew that he probably looked a mess from any outside perspective but that was of little consequence now.  All he was truly aware of was that he was holding the body of a dead girl and that his family was surrounding them, howling.  

 

He knew that his family home was burning brightly a short distance away and he was aware that there were eight bodies, either dead or unconscious, lying around in front of the Hale property.  

 

He could feel when his pack members, his family, began to huddle together around Derek and Stiles’ body in their mourning.  He could sense their gut wrenching sadness, their listless anger; he could smell the saltiness of tears and he could smell blood--Stiles’ blood.  

 

Looking down, Derek peered intently at the unmoving body ensconced in his arms.  She was still warm.  Derek couldn’t seem to move his mind past the fact that the now lifeless body in his arms was still warm.   _ Aren’t bodies supposed to be cold? _

 

The thought ricocheted in his mind bringing him to an abrupt stop which signals something because suddenly Derek’s hearing is working in high definition.  

 

He could hear his pack howling long and hard, their grief and misery spiraling higher and higher, their howls culminating, choking Derek.  He can hear the piercing whine of the approaching sirens.  He can hear the heartbeats of his family, his pack, beating in tandem but the heartbeat he wished to hear is silent.

 

Stiles’ face is slackened with a soft smile twisting her lips.  She looks peaceful, happy.  Unburdened.  

 

Derek knew that when she said she had been waiting to die that she was telling the truth.  He could see how tired she was, how high strung her body was.  He had watched her for the short amount of time she had been in his family’s life.  

 

He had seen how she never seemed to relax.  Derek had seen how she stood up slightly crouched, ready to spring should anything appear.  He noticed how she was often at odds with herself with how she never wanted her back to the door but she put herself between his family and the door at the same time. 

 

Derek had noticed that despite the tension between Laura and Stiles that she would have died for her.  He knew that Stiles had respected his mother and his pack despite how she may have represented herself when she first arrived.  

 

He knew that Stiles cared despite her seemingly cold facade and clinical delivery of their deaths.  He had seen how strong Stiles was...and how broken.  Derek would like to think that he had noticed a lot of things about Stiles despite the short amount of time they had spent together.  

 

Still gazing down at the silent individual in his arms, he began to see something sparking.  Derek blinked his eyes heavily believing that the tears that were quickly filling his eyes were responsible for the odd sight before him but when he opened his eyes once more, he saw that Stiles’ form looked grey, almost translucent in a sense.  

 

Derek began to panic, an action to which his pack responds to immediately.  They begin to shoot questions and concerns back and forth but Derek’s attention is too focused on Stiles as she becomes light in his arms.  The small weight of her slight form begins to disappear.  Her features are becoming blurred as they drift more into the translucent grey that had begun to converge over her form.  

 

Derek gripped onto Stiles tightly, his claws even sliding out of his fingers in an attempt to hold onto her with everything he had but he could feel her slipping through his hands.  Derek watched panicked and helplessly as the young woman in his arms continued to vanish before his very eyes until nothing remained except the cold sting against his cheek where he knew a bloody handprint resided and the photograph that was clutched in his right hand.  

 

The pack let out one last mournful howl before they were cut off by the sirens that screamed their way onto the Hale property.  

 

Everything that happened after Stiles had disappeared in his arms was a blur to Derek.  There were sirens screeching, he could feel cool water spraying him intermittently, he could feel the heat from the fire, he could smell ash and burned wood and blood but everything else was dulled.  

 

Looking back later, Derek heard from his family that they had maneuvered around him as he had sat in a huddled puddle on the ground.  They had made sure that no one approached him.  The only ones they would let through were the paramedics who declared that Derek was in shock but otherwise fine, even going so far as to drape him in a flaming orange shock blanket.  A deputy made his way towards Derek and sat with him, leaving enough space that Derek didn’t feel crowded but close enough that he knew he wasn’t alone.  There were no questions just a companionable silence.  

 

The fire was put out quickly.  There was a lot of damage from the fire and from the water that was used to put out the flames.  There was no way that the family could stay at their house so they need to find temporary accommodations.  The deputy was kind enough to relay that none of his family had been injured.  There were a few issues with smoke inhalation but that was easily remedied.  The only questions that were left were about the two dead hunters and the other six who were unconscious.  

 

Derek didn’t know how his family explained that particular problem.  He was later told that the fire was easily explained away as a failed revenge motivated killing with Talia as the target.  He was also told the story his family had fabricated for the police.  

 

The entire family had gotten out so it wasn’t too hard to believe that the older males of the family had distracted and knocked out the six hunters so that their family members could get away.  The story for how Kate and the man Derek now knew was Gerard, was perhaps the oddest cover story his family could come up with but he didn’t feel like he could judge.  They said that Laura had attacked Kate in a fit of rage and she clawed her heart out of Kate’s chest with her bare hands--they even made sure it was believable because Laura had done exactly that which slightly terrified Derek, but that was another story.  Gerard’s death occurred when Peter emerged from the trees to see that Gerard had come up behind Laura and was leveling a gun at her back thus accounting for both the fired shot and Gerard’s broken neck.  

 

Derek didn’t remember standing and being shuffled by the Deputy into the back of his car.  He didn’t react when Cora slid into the chair beside him in the back with Laura sliding in at the end.  He didn’t react but he knew they were there.  He curled an arm absentmindedly around Cora as she leaned over to use his shoulder as a pillow.  

 

The ride to the Sheriff’s station was a blur.  He knows that he was shuffled into the station, plopped into a chair outside the Sheriff’s office and he knew that his sisters were in the station close by but being talked to by other officers.  The deputy that had sat with him, drove him to the station, and settled him in the chair he was currently sitting in had left with the assurance that he would be back soon.  

 

Derek sat in the uncomfortable, high back, wooden chair slumped inwards.  His right cheek pulled slightly at his movements due to the dried blood there and Derek absentmindedly scrubbed at it with the scratchy orange blanket that was still somehow around his shoulders.  

 

He was brought quite rudely out of his stupor when a small hand covered in what smelled like sharpie chemicals was shoved directly in his face holding a hand full of brightly colored lollipops.  

 

Derek reared back slightly and found himself faced with a little girl that looked about eight years old.  She was dressed in a red and black tutu with a blue Captain America t-shirt tucked into it.  There was a small purple plaid shirt overlaying both.  Her hair was an amalgamation of light and dark browns and was hanging wildly around her face in a wavy bob cut.  

 

The girl’s hands were indeed covered in multiple shades of sharpie colors.  There were even some along her face around her small, pink mouth that was stretched into a small, shy smile.  Her eyes were large for her pale, mole-speckled face and they were an entrancing color.  Derek, for the life of him, couldn’t place why her eyes seemed like a punch to the gut for him.  

 

Opening his senses quickly, he found that the girl smelt like sharpies (of course), sugar, petrichor, with the slight smell of medication slightly souring her natural scent, and the scent of grief was present but was tempered by hopefulness as she peered upwards at Derek’s slumped features.  Her right hand was thrust towards him almost overflowing with the multicolored sugar sticks while her left hand clutched a small, stuffed wolf plush against her chest.  

 

Once he realized that he was staring at the young girl for too long without answering, Derek quickly shook himself and reached his hand out slowly so as not to scare the young girl and grasped the top of a blue lollipop shaped like a butterfly.  Pulling it slowly from her grip, Derek resettled back with the sucker in his right palm, slowly twirling it.  

 

Watching the girl in front of him, Derek couldn’t help but feel his lips pull into an indulgent smile as the girl before him sent him a mega-watt one when he accepted her small sugary gift.  Smiling happily to herself, Derek watched as the girl then proceeded to clamber clumsily onto the seat to Derek’s right.  She rearranged herself until she was sitting straight forward but was still able to have Derek in her sights.  

 

The girl fidgeted where she sat as though her body was bursting with energy that it didn’t know how to expel.  Derek watched as the young girl quickly selected a purple lollipop with a decisive nod, quickly unwrapped it, and started to chew on it.  Derek chuckled slightly at the action.  The girl looked towards him and smiled, her eyes crinkling mischievously but happily.  Derek had a feeling that the girl had done the action on purpose but he could find no fault in that.  

 

“Are you sad, mister?”  The girl’s voice was small but loud, soothing in a way.

 

“Yes.  I lost a...friend of mine.  And my house was set on fire.”  Derek responded honestly.

 

“I’m sorry, mister.  I lost someone too.”  Derek looked down to see that the girl had ducked her head slightly and clutched the wolf closer to her, the scent of salt water sliding into the air.

 

Derek didn’t know what to say.  ‘I’m sorry’ was generic and overused but this little girl didn’t know that yet.  Or maybe she did.  Losing someone changed you.  Derek felt empty, like he was drifting in a sense.  He felt numbed.  He wondered if this little girl felt the same in some ways but he pushed those thoughts aside.  

 

Apparently he had taken to long to answer because the young girl started to talk again, “I’m sorry about your house too.  Was anyone inside?”

 

Without thinking about the consequences, Derek answered honestly, “Yes but they were all okay.”

 

The little girl smiled towards Derek, “That’s good.”

 

Derek only nodded in response.  Feeling like a change from a less morbid subject would be better, Derek glanced around himself and finally landed on the plush wolf that the girl was holding.  Nodding towards it, he asked her what the wolf’s name was.  

 

The little girl’s face dropped slightly and her scent took on a murky scent of grief.  “My daddy got me him to protect me from monsters.  He got him for me after mommy got sick.”

 

Derek’s stomach dropped at the admission.  This wasn’t how this conversation was supposed to go.  

 

“He doesn’t have a name yet.  I couldn’t think of one.  Can you help me?”

 

Taken aback, Derek nodded slightly shocked yet pleased at the young girl’s random request.  The two spent a little time trading names back and forth but each name was vetoed.  ‘Fluffy’ didn’t fit because “this wolf doesn’t look fluffy”; the name ‘Donald’ only got a small glare; ‘Regi’ sounded too much like veggie; and none of the Avenger’s names seemed to fit the small, black wolf.  

 

The girl’s voice broke this his thoughts, “His face is all grumpy but he’s soft and cute.”

 

Derek looked closer at the wolf and saw that yes, while the wolf’s eyes were a soft green, his muzzle was twisted in a weird smirk/snarl combination that did, in fact, make it look ‘grumpy’.  

 

Chuckling softly at the description, he went back to work thinking about names, losing track of his surroundings once more as he focused on the little wolf sitting upright in the girl’s left palm.  

 

There was a squeal from his right which jerked his attention towards the young girl to see her nearly vibrating in her seat.  “I know!  It’s perfect!”

 

Derek waited patiently as he stared on amusedly at the young girl swaying enthusiastically in her seat as a smile grew on her face.  

 

“I dub thee, Sir Sourwolf!”  

 

The exclamation and the name the young girl had chosen had Derek failing to hold in his laughter.  He bent forward in his seat and attempted to stifle his laughter as the girl beside him started to look at him a little worriedly but her face quickly changed into an attempted blank facade.

 

“Do you  have a problem with the sir’s name, mister?”

 

Muffling his laughter while attempting to hide his smile he responded, “No, your majesty.  Tis a wonderful name.”

 

“You mock me, sir.”

 

“Never.”  Derek vowed bowing slightly in her direction.  

 

The two were so wrapped up in their own conversation that it took a second to notice that someone was attempting to get the young girl’s attention.  The young girl snapped her head towards the entrance where Derek noticed a deputy standing.  A moment of clarity hit Derek as he realized that the young-ish man standing on the other side of the room was the same man who had sat beside him and had brought him to the station alongside his siblings.  

 

The man was tall, strong but not overly so.  His hair was a sandy brown, shorn short to his head, his expression was tired yet fond as he gazed over in the direction that Derek and the young girl were sitting in.  Derek watched as the man waved his hand towards himself, beckoning the young girl seated beside him.

 

Derek turned to watch the girl wiggle off of her chair, tipping precariously, until she was on the ground with her lollipops grasped in her right hand and the newly named wolf in her left.  She turned away from Derek but quickly turned back towards him taking a step in his direction.

 

“Thank you mister for helping name my wolf.  I’m sorry that you’re sad.”

 

Derek smiled slightly, “Of course, I loved helping.  I’m not so sad anymore now.”

 

The girl gave Derek a blinding smile in response.  “What’s your name, mister?”

 

“My name’s Derek.”

 

“Hello, Derek.  My name is--”

 

A slightly raised voice jumped in suddenly, “Stiles, it’s time to go.”

 

Derek’s eyes widened suddenly, staring intently at the young girl--Stiles, standing in front of him as a young child.  He watched dumbfounded, shocked as Stiles turned towards him once more and said, “Bye Derek!” before running off into her dad’s open arms.  

 

Derek watched as the young girl, Stiles, his mind supplied, was lifted into the air and placed on her father’s right hip.  He watched as she was carried out, babbling to her dad about how Derek was awesome and how he helped her name her wolf and that her dad now had to be introduced to Sir Sourwolf.

 

Derek listened to the conversation long after the two had left his sight and he listened for as long as he could until the two had driven out of his hearing.  Derek felt someone collapse into the seat next to him that Stiles had just vacated.  He turned to see Laura holding a drifting Cora on her lap as they looked in the same direction Derek was.

 

“Was that--”

 

Derek broke off Laura’s query, “Yeah.”

 

Derek watched as the front doors to the Sheriff’s department suddenly opened admitting his parents and the rest of his family, whole and unharmed.  Derek felt the guilt and sadness that had previously pressed down heavily on him begin to lighten.  His family was alive.  The people who tried to hurt them couldn’t anymore and the friend he had made was alive and well--not the same person he met, but she was there.  

 

Derek, Cora, and Laura were grabbed into a group hug.  Derek couldn’t tell where one person ended and another began, all he knew was that he was surrounded by his pack, his family, and they were safe and alive.  

 

It would be about an hour later once they were all settled into a hotel room for the night that Derek would reveal how he had met a little girl dressed in a tutu who offered him a lollipop and who asked him to help her name her stuffed wolf at the station.  It was then that he would reveal that her name was Stiles.


End file.
